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22 August 2025 | Story Dr Nombulelo Shange | Photo Supplied
Dr Nombulelo Shange
Dr Nombulelo Shange is a sociology lecturer at the University of the Free State (UFS).

Opinion article by Dr Nombulelo Shange, Lecturer in the Department of Sociology, University of the Free State 


 

The rising xenophobic violence and exclusion towards African nationals from outside of South Africa is increasingly becoming an emotive issue that is impossible to engage and unpack. In the social-media, “Trumpification” age we live in today, truth-telling and evidence are secondary or even completely irrelevant against the loud, “smart-sounding opinions” rooted in lies and misinformation spread online. Some have used statistics to show that foreigners only make up roughly 4% of our population, which is significant, but not enough to account for our rising unemployment and South Africans’ difficulty in accessing social services and goods such as education and healthcare. There are bigger challenges rooted in our incomplete revolution, rooted in coloniality, where resources and land were left at the hands of the white oppressor, in exchange for “peace”. There are bigger challenges rooted in corruption and poor governance. But even with these realities, many bury their heads in the sand and opt to believe the incomplete story that foreigners are our single greatest problem. 

 

Self-inflicted harm 

Many others have turned to history as a reminder of how African countries in different ways, aided our armed struggle and apartheid resistance, warning that we might need the continent soon and we would have alienated all of our neighbours if we continue down this path. Others have turned to politics and economics, which show us the importance of having strong economic ties with neighbouring countries to ensure growth and development. We saw this in part historically with the European Union and we see it today with the rise of Asian markets like China, Japan, South Korea, Singapore and others. Some of the pluralistic approaches to the rapid growth of many of these Asian markets is in relaxing borders to enable the flow of people, ideas, technology, money and resources. But South Africans continue to respond by fighting for the isolating barriers put up by colonialism and later apartheid in order to strengthen their cruel inhumane policies and stronghold against black people. 

We often do this to our own detriment as black people and people of colour, structures such as Operation Dudula and March on March, seldom march to white schools in the suburbs to demand that white people prove their citizenship and belonging. They do this in predominantly black or mixed areas, applying a self-imposed apartheid dompas system, that limits our movements. They ignore the fact that many South Africans themselves are undocumented because of a variety of historical and contemporary issues and struggles related to accessing important services like Home Affairs. They base many of their strategies on hateful intangible stereotypes like the belief that foreigners are dark, cannot speak South African languages or pronounce specific words. The ideas around what it means to be South African are usually very linear and often prioritise namely Nguni culture and languages. So, if you are not a light skinned, Zulu/Nguni person, without your ID, you find yourself at risk of being harmed or being denied important services like healthcare in an emergency for example. We are too quick to forget the lessons of the COVID-19 pandemic; illness does not care who you are, what race or nationality you are, it spreads and places all of us at risk. Denying foreigners access to healthcare, while many of them live in overcrowded black townships, places black South Africans in harm’s way and can lead to a public health crisis in areas where people were struggling to access healthcare long before the influx of foreigners in the country. 

 

Silence and inaction of our leaders

Noticeable in this whole mess and scary new norm, is the silence and inaction of our leaders. The violent and harmful actions of South Africans can in part be explained by their desperate state stemming from poverty, unemployment, and violent crimes experienced today. The tensions can in part be explained by a lack of adequate awareness of the diverse historical and contemporary importance of the continent and our immediate neighbours for our own growth and development. The overwhelming silence of our leaders is hard to make sense of. The Economic Freedom Fighters (EFF) leaders remain some of the few leaders that condemn this violence and call for a united Africa. It is believed this stance even cost EFF supporters in the 2024 elections, but they still continue to hold onto this important ethical stance, while more prominent leaders shy away from the issue. Many of these leaders were themselves either born or raised in exile or started their own families outside of the country and were the direct beneficiaries of the kindness and sacrifice that many African countries showed us during apartheid. In this new climate of having to prove “South Africanness” and therefore belonging gymnastics, many of them would have their belonging questioned. But rather than call out the violence and put protections in place, while creating awareness on diverse complexities that create “South Africanness”, our leaders are silent. And perhaps more startling, is that our government is partly made up of a political party that campaigned on the hate of foreigners. Including political parties like the Patriotic Alliance in governance has helped formalise fringe ideas like the “abahambe” slogan, which was a chant directed at African foreigners, threatening and instructing them to leave. The threats have materialised, and foreigners are having different kinds of violence enacted on them.  

 

Afrophobia protects colonial borders

Many social commentors warned that the xenophobic utterances embedded in slogans such as “abahambe” coming from Patriotic Alliance leader, Minister Gayton McKenzie, are deeply rooted in anti-black hate. The TikTok accounts of creators such as: Nikita Lexi, Tara Roos, Samantha Jansen, Kaapie in Korea, Romantha Botha, and many others, have provided interesting and important context and caution with their historically rooted, evidence-based truth-telling that speaks to a plethora of contemporary South African issues, including race. Minister of Sports, Arts and Culture, McKenzie has now recently come under fire for posting old racist and sexist tweets, where the biggest frustration is over his repeated use of the “k-word”. The minister’s actions raise a lot of questions about the intersecting links between Afrophobia, tribalism, hate towards blackness and self-hate as a psychosocial condition plaguing many black people and people of colour, especially in South Africa. What we learn from the minister’s tweets is that Afrophobia is often used to mask racism. It is concerning for a government minister to hold such views, while they are responsible for providing services to the predominately black masses, and artists, in the case of McKenzie. 

What might be perhaps the most damaging and harmful to us as black South Africans, is that our Afrophobia disconnects us to valuable, self-affirming spiritual, social, historical, ecological and economic ties we have with the African continent. We protect the colonial borders that tore our families and cultural groups apart. Our hate is a worship of the colonial shackles that dismembered our ancestors, histories and experiences and that still stifle us today. 

News Archive

From peasant to president; from Samora Machel to Cahora Bassa
2015-03-25

Prof Barbara Isaacman and Prof Allen Isaacman
Photo: Renè-Jean van der Berg

When the plane crashed in Mbuzini, the entire country was submerged in a profound grieving.

This is how Prof Allen Isaacman, Regents Professor of History at the University of Minnesota, described the effect President Samora Machel’s death in 1986 had on Mozambique. In a public lecture, Prof Isaacman spoke about the man, Samora Machel, and the influences that shaped Machel’s life. The event, recently hosted by the UFS International Studies Group on the Bloemfontein Campus, was part of the Stanley Trapido Seminar Programme.

Samora Machel: from peasant to president
Born in 1933 into a peasant family, Machel was allowed to advance only to the third grade in school. “And yet,” Prof Isaacman said, “he became a very prominent local peasant intellectual and ultimately one of the most significant critics of Portuguese colonialism and colonial capitalism.” Machel had a great sense of human agency and firmly believed that one is not a mere victim of circumstances. “You were born into a world, but you can change it,” Prof Isaacman explained Machel’s conviction.

From herding cattle in Chokwe, to working as male nurse, Machel went on to become the leader of the Liberation Front of Mozambique (Frelimo) and ultimately the president of his country. To this day, not only does he “capture the imagination of the Mozambican people and South Africans, but is considered one the great leaders of that moment in African history,” Prof Isaacman concluded his lecture.

Displacement, and the Delusion of Development: Cahora Bassa and Its Legacies in Mozambique, 1965–2007
Later in the day, Profs Allen and Barbara Isaacman discussed their book: ‘Displacement, and the Delusion of Development: Cahora Bassa and Its Legacies in Mozambique, 1965–2007’ at the Archives for Contemporary Affairs. As authors of the book, they investigate the history and legacies of one of Africa's largest dams, Cahora Bassa, which was built in Mozambique by the Portuguese in the late 1960s and early 1970s.

The dam was constructed under conditions of war and inaugurated after independence by a government led by Frelimo. The dam has since operated continuously, although, for many years, much of its electricity was not exported or used because armed rebels had destroyed many high voltage power line pillars. Since the end of the armed conflict in 1992, power lines have been rebuilt, and Cahora Bassa has provided electricity again, primarily to South Africa, though increasingly to the national Mozambican grid as well.

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